Jesu, the Growing Work Is Thine

Jesu

the grow­ing work is Thine

And who shall hin­der its suc­cess?

In vain the ali­en ar­mies join

Thy glo­ri­ous Gos­pel to sup­press

And vow

with Sa­tan’s aid

to o’er­throw

The work Thy grace re­vives be­low.

The wa­ry world

as Ju­li­an wise

Wise with the wis­dom from be­neath

A while its mild­er mal­ice tries

And lets these mad en­thu­si­asts breathe

Breathe to in­fect their pur­est air

And spread the plague of vir­tue there.

Wondering the calm des­pis­ers stand

And dream that they the res­pite give.

Restrained by Thine o’er­rul­ing hand

They kind­ly suf­fer us to live

Live to de­fy their mas­ter’s frown

And turn his king­dom up­side down.

Still the old dra­gon bites his chain

Not yet com­mis­sioned from on high;

Rage the fierce Pha­ri­sees in vain;

Away with them

the zeal­ots cry

And hoa­ry Caia­phas ex­claims

And Bon­ner dooms us to the flames.

But our great God

who reigns on high

Shall laugh their haugh­ty rage to scorn

Scatter their ev­il with His eye

Or to His praise their fierce­ness turn;

While all their ef­forts to re­move

His Church

shall stab­lish her in love.

Yes

Lord

Thy pro­mise-word is true

Our sac­red hairs are num­bered all;

Though earth and hell our lives pur­sue

Without Thy leave we can­not fall;

And if Thou slack the mur­der­er’s chain

We suf­fer but with Thee to reign.

Our suf­fer­ings shall ad­vance Thy cause

And blunt the per­se­cut­or’s sword

Dispread the vic­to­ry of Thy cross

And glo­ri­fy our con­quer­ing Lord.

Evil shall work for Si­on’s good:

Its seed is still the mar­tyr’s blood.